


The Naked Truth

by Thomaddicted



Category: Sterek - Fandom, Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: But he learns, Comforting Derek, Derek Hale Deserves Nice Things, Derek Hale Respects Stiles Stilinski, Derek Hale is Bad at Feelings, Derek is confused, Detective Work, Humor, Intimacy, Liam Dumbar is a Pup, M/M, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Pining, Romance, Scott McCall is a Good Alpha, Self Doubting Derek Hale, Smartass Stiles Stilinski, Stiles Stilinski is Nice Things, Stiles is curious, loving stiles, woke up naked
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-26
Updated: 2019-05-26
Packaged: 2020-03-17 17:31:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18969763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thomaddicted/pseuds/Thomaddicted
Summary: Derek and Stiles wake up naked and slightly hung over in Derek's loft.Hijinks ensue.





	The Naked Truth

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to take a stab at a familiar trope, "We woke up in the same bed", and turn it into something funny, as well as sexy.
> 
> And a bit angsty, because Sterek always tastes better that way.
> 
> Also, there is no smut, which surprises me.
> 
> Also, I left the ending open, and I don't know why.

Derek Hale slowly cracked his eyes, and squinted against the glow of the too-bright morning light.

His head throbbed, and his back ached. Both things disturbed him since, as a werewolf (and as an evolved one, at that), neither thing should be an issue for him.

A thought slithered through the dizziness of his mind. "At least I'm home, in the comfort of my own..."

Derek flared his nose, picking up the scents in his room. One of which was familiar, but also very out of place, for this time of day.

Slowly lifting his head, he found the source of the enticing aroma, Stiles Stilinski. Stiles was currently asleep, curled up at Derek's side, his left arm underneath him.

Stiles right arm was draped over Derek's torso, extremely close to Derek's left nipple, the fingers almost in Derek's armpit. Stiles head rested on Derek's right pec.

Derek felt both excited, and terrified of the implication, because they were also both bare ass naked on the couch of his loft's living room area.

Oh god that was Stiles' erection pushing up against him and it felt....

"Um... Derek?"

Stiles' voice is unsure, and scared, and a touch excited. Derek feels Stiles' right arm move carefully away from his chest.

"Stiles." Derek's voice is flat and clipped, and maybe a touch colder than he wants it to be, but he can't help it because it that ALL STILES ON HIS HIP??

Moving away slowly, Stiles pulls himself off of Derek, and stands, using both his hands to preserve his modesty, which is pointless since it was humping Derek moments ago.

Derek looks away respectfully while Stiles gets off of him, flushing as he sees Stiles' pert buttocks as the jiggle around the room.

"Where are my clothes?" Stiles looks around the sparsely decorated loft. There's the couch, and a coffee table, there is a television stand, and not much else.

And no sign of their clothes.

Derek gets up, and realizes that he is also exposed. He is frozen in place, because he also realizes his backside hurts. A lot.

"Stiles. What happened?"

Stiles turns around nervously, and for a moment starts to panic, but then thinks. "I am a grown man. There is nothing awful about this situation. This is just a misunderstanding."

He looks at Derek and sighs, then grimaces as he realizes his back stings.

"I.... I have no idea." Stiles replies calmly. "We obviously... fell asleep. Somehow. Minus our clothes."

Derek nods, grimly, but accepting. "Yes. It would appear that we have done so. And we have woken up. Naked."

Stiles nods in agreement. These are facts. Facts are nothing to be ashamed of, at this time.

"And, it appears, at this moment, there are no, um, clothes, of ours. Anywhere."

Derek flicks his eyes to the staircase. "I have... There should be something in the dresser, in my room."

By pointing, Derek exposes a rather large set of balls, and Stiles doesn't even hide the way he stares in lust at Derek.

"Sure." Stiles watches as Derek covers himself back up. He can feel a rush of heat run through his body.

Stiles winces as he moves. "Is... is there something on my back, Derek?" Stiles steps gently toward the mirror on the wall near the door, trying to look over his shoulder.

Derek's eyes widen, as he looks at Stiles back, at the long, red, marks that run up and down Stiles' pale, mole dotted back.

He had been so distracted by the pale, firm, jiggling backside, that Derek never realized there appear to be a large amount of what look like scratch marks all over Stiles' back.

"Did... did I... did you...? Stiles spins slightly before the mirror, like a pup chasing his tail, trying to analyze the marks on his back.

Derek shook his head. "No!" Derek felt queasy. "I didn't... at least... I don't think I did..."

"I look like I've been used like a scratching post!" Stiles yelped. He turned back to Derek. "Do you....?"

Stiles sighed. "You wouldn't... I mean, you would have healed..." Stiles looked at Derek's body again.

"Yes, but..." Derek flushed. "I... am sore...um... back, there." Derek jerked his head to the side.

"Oh." Stiles remarked. "Oh!" He followed, and then "Oooohhhhhhhh. You mean, there!" Stiles emphasized the last word.

A small, satisfied smile crossed his face. "I guess I must have brought it like a champ."

Derek shot Stiles a derisive look. "I don't think so, Stiles."

Stiles tilted his head. "Really Derek? I'm not the one complaining about a sore ass, and to be honest..." Stiles nodded at Derek's crotch. "You look like I'd have felt it."

Derek huffed. "You would have. Because I don't... well, I'm not the..." Derek started to get agitated. "I'm not the bottom, Stiles."

Stiles shrugged. "There's no shame in being the bottom Derek. The bottom is a very important part of sex. Otherwise, it's just masturbation."

Derek growled.

"Okay, not the time, I get it." Stiles backed up. He fidgeted a bit, adjusting his grip on his manhood.

"So." Stiles took a breath. "Do you remember anything that happened?"

Derek shook his head. "I remember we were all here, drinking. We had food. It was the pack, no outsiders."

"No Peter?" Stiles asked, thinking.

"No, he's been out of the country, so he wouldn't have been here."

"So that rules out foul play." Stiles looked around. "If I had my phone, I could text Scott, but..." Stiles looked around.

Stiles walked over to the kitchen, hoping to find some clue. Nothing. Stiles checked the trash bin under the sink. Nothing.

He checked the recycle bin next to that.

Jackpot.

"Possible suspect." Stiles held up the bottle to the light. "Wolfsbane tequila." Stiles smelled the sickeningly sweet scent from the bottle.

"Doesn't smell like it though." Derek said, from Stiles shoulder. Startled, Stiles flailed, dropping the bottle, which Derek caught in mid-air.

Stiles stumbled, hoping to catch the bottle, not realizing that Derek already had it. Which left Stiles crouching in front of Derek.

So. That's what Derek Hale's penis looks like up close, Stiles thought. He rose, and absentmindedly scratched his balls.

Derek grunted, as he watched Stiles' third leg limply swing and bounce around. He pictured what it would look like, hard. Wow. No wonder he was sore.

"But why would I be sore?" Derek asked. "I have advanced healing, and no matter how big your dick is, I'd be fine by this point."

Stiles grinned. "You think my dick is huge?"

Derek turned beet red. "I never said that."

Stiles shrugged, no longer trying to cover himself. "Well, I mean, if you got it..." he placed his hands on his hips, proudly.

"Stiles. Focus. Aren't you supposed to be the big FBI guy around here?"

"Apparently I was always the big guy..."

Derek growled and threw his hands in the air, equally exasperated and aroused at Stiles' bravado.

"Derek, you drank last night, didn't you?" Stiles crossed his arms over his chest as he leaned against the sink.

"Yes." Derek braced his hands on the kitchen island. "I remember doing shots with Scott, and I don't remember why... like, it kinda blurs out."

Stiles nodded. "I remember Lydia and I talked about something, and we started laughing. I remember Isaac suggested body shots."

Derek shook his head.

"Maybe I overshot the alcohol." Derek shrugged. "I guess... I mean, I wouldn't... I mean, I..."

Derek sighed, and looked at the floor, covering himself again. "I'm sorry if I did something I shouldn't have, Stiles."

Stiles jolted, slightly upset his view was blocked. "You? You're the one with the sore ass. I mean, clearly I'm at fault here, cause I violated you."

Derek looked back up. "Violated me?"

Stiles nodded. "I'm sorry Derek. I... Please, please forgive me, for hurting you."

Derek wrinkled his nose at the sharp sour smell of sour shame emanating from Stiles.

"Stiles." Derek stepped near the shamed guy, only to have Stiles move away. "Stiles, I don't think that's what happened."

Stiles shrugged. "You have a sore butt, I've got nail marks down my back, my pelvis is sore..."

"Your pelvis is sore?" Derek tilted his head in wonder.

Stiles nodded. "Yeah, it feels like someone has been pouncing on it, or beating it with a hammer."

Derek's jaw dropped. "Wow."

"I mean, it wasn't likely you, you've got an amazing butt... I mean, that's quality padding right there..."

Derek closed his eyes and shook his head. "Stiles."

Stiles sighed. "I mean, Derek, you know what your butt looks like. If you don't, it could be classified as criminal."

Derek moved to the refrigerator. "Stiles, just, stop."

He brought out two bottles of water, and tossed one to Stiles, who caught it, leaving himself exposed again.

Well, everything's all out in the open now, each one thought.

Stiles leaned back, not bothering to hide his body anymore. Derek had done just the same. The shame over their nudity seemed almost moot now.

"I mean, I know you wouldn't do that to me." Derek shook his head.

"Even if I was liquored up, and unconscious, you wouldn't Stiles."

Stiles shrugged. "I'd like to think I wouldn't. I mean, I've kept my hands off of you so far."

Derek nodded.

"Wait, you just agreed with me, like that?" Stiles asked. "I could have been lying."

Derek smirked. "Stiles, you realize I can tell whenever you're lying, right? As well as smell whenever you're aroused?"

"Oh." Stiles blinked rapidly.

"So you mean, you could smell me.... every time?" Stiles asked, embarrassed.

Derek nodded.

"So, like, when you saved me from Isaac..."

Derek nodded.

"And when you first met us in the woods...."

Derek nodded, his arms folded across his chest. "All the times, Stiles."

"That time in Mexico?"

Derek felt his smirk fade. "No." He shook his head.

Stiles paled.

"That time," Derek bit his lip. "That time, your scent was different. Scared, sad." Derek took a breath.

"That time, I could smell... love." Derek looked away, so he couldn't see Stiles react.

Stiles felt his heart skip two beats, and realized Derek would catch that too.

"Why didn't you say anything?" Stiles voice was soft.

Derek shrugged.

"You knew I was in love with you." Stiles swallowed. "Why didn't you say anything?"

Stiles scent went peppery. "If you knew, then why did you leave...?" Stiles took a breath.

"Why didn't you just come right out and ask me, Derek? If you knew. I mean, I..." Stiles paused. "Derek, do you like me?"

Derek let his eyes find Stiles' eyes. Stiles rapidly approached Derek, his scent bright with anger.

"Derek Hale, answer me. Do. You. Like. Me?" Stiles was upset now, and he flicked Derek's muscular arm with every word of his question.

Taking a deep breath, Derek nodded.

Stiles stood, dumbfounded.

"Why didn't you tell me? Der, we could have spent years..."

"No, we couldn't." Derek cut Stiles off. "I wouldn't have...."

"Der, I would have said yes on day one!"

"Which is why I wouldn't, Stiles." Derek went gruff, and walked out of the kitchen.

"You were way too young when I met you."

Stiles huffed. "So I was old enough to toss around and intimidate, but not old enough to..."

Exactly." Derek turned holding a finger up to Stiles. "You were illegal at that point, and might I remind you, I'm six years..."

"...Older than me." Stiles finished with Derek. "Yes, but..."

"No buts, Stiles." Derek shook his head. "That's called statutory rape, and it is illegal in this state."

Stiles put his hands on his hips. "Hey, if I'm old enough to risk my life fighting kanimas and wendigos..."

"And if your father, the sheriff, had found out we were together..."

Stiles rolled his eyes. "I would have talked us out of it."

Derek threw up his hands. "You're impossible, Stiles."

The brooding man turned and headed for the staircase with Stiles on his heels.

"I wouldn't have Stiles. I didn't tell you I liked you, or had feelings for you, to save your life."

Derek headed up the stairs. Stiles took a few moments to watch everything bounce up the stairs a second before following.

"Wait, wait." He called up as he followed Derek. "What do you mean, to save my life?"

Derek looked over his shoulder. "Nothing, Stiles."

"No." Stiles followed. "I deserve an explanation for that."

Derek paused, but then headed to his room.

"What did you mean, save my life Derek?" Stiles marched into Derek's bedroom.

"Stiles!" Derek barked at his interrogator. "Have you MET me?" Derek's eyes looked hurt, and haunted.

"Every single person I have liked, or loved, has been killed, or taken away from me. Don't you think that gets pretty shitty after a while?" Derek shouted, balling his hands into fists.

Stiles actually took a step back, which broke Derek's heart.

That Stiles took a breath, then took a step forward, made Derek's eyes sting with tears. That was Stiles. Always was Stiles. Always will be Stiles.

"Der. What happened to you, happened TO you. You didn't cause any of it to happen."

Derek looked away.

"It's not your fault Der. It's also not your job to save everyone." Stiles had moved closer, and Derek was so comforted by this knowledge.

Stiles gently reached out, touching Derek's arm.

"It's not your responsibility to make sure everyone is okay. None of us are children anymore, Derek."

Derek closed his eyes and exhaled. His skin tingled and peace bloomed outward from where Stiles' hand now rested comfortable on Derek's bicep.

"We have all accepted we are in control of our lives. What I need you to do now, Der, is forgive yourself for your past."

Derek turned around to face Stiles.

"Forgive myself?" He gasped, with a tinge of anger in his voice. "Forgive... Stiles, why do you even...?"

Stiles let his hand move up to Derek's face, his thumb resting softly over Derek's lips.

"Derek. Let yourself be happy. Let yourself have nice things. Let yourself BELIEVE you DESERVE nice things, because you do."

Stiles was close now, again. Derek could feel Stiles in his personal space, radiating his heat. Derek closed his eyes. His hunger for Stiles made his heart ache.

"Stiles... every time I like..."

"Derek. Repeat after me. I'm Derek Hale, and I deserve nice things."

Stiles gently rubbed his finger over Derek's lips, as he swiped it to the side.

"Look me in the eyes, Derek." Stiles pleaded, softly. "I want to see you..."

Derek opened his eyes, releasing a tear from under his left lid, feeling helpless as it rolled down his face.

"Derek, say it with me." Stiles caught the errant tear on his thumb. "I am Derek Hale, and I deserve nice things."

"I'm... I'm Derek Hale..." Derek stuttered, and blushed.

"Aaaaannnnnd..." Stiles grinned.

"And I deserve nice things." Derek mumbled.

"What was that?" Stiles rubbed his thumb over Derek's cheek.

"I deserve nice things." Derek said, more comfortably.

"Again." Stiles smile was genuine.

"I'm Derek Hale, and I deserve nice things." Derek replied, a small grin beginning to crawl across his face.

"Again, Der. Confidently."

"I'm Derek Hale. I deserve nice things."

Stiles leaned in, kissing Derek, gently.

Derek felt his hands move against Stiles' body, resting comfortably on him.

He heard Stiles exhale, and whine softly, as Derek pressed into him. Derek let his lips brush Stiles' and take in the scent of the younger man's arousal.

Stiles gently breaks the kiss, and moves himself back toward Derek's bed.

Stiles crawls onto the bed, on his hands and knees, looking over his shoulder. He sees a hunger in Derek's eyes, and wants to see more.

So he lowers his chest to the bed, raking his hips up more, presenting to Derek. Stiles gets what he wants, and he sees Derek's eyes flash red, and it thrills him.

"Come and take me, Derek. I'm yours."

Derek approaches Stiles, and stops himself.

"Stiles."

Stiles looks back at Derek, and seeing the older man standing, looking sad again.

"Derek, what's wrong?"

"Last night... what if I..." Derek is in his head again. "What if I... did I... Did you want what we did? If we did?"

Stiles sits on the bed, his erection flagging again.

Derek looks down at him, but does not move from where he stands.

"I mean, we were drunk, and we can't remember anything. What if I hurt... or forced you to do something." Derek covers his mouth.

Stiles stood on his knees on the bed. "Derek, have you not been paying attention to me for years? I've ALWAYS wanted you."

He sat back on his haunches, and rested his hands in his lap.

"I mean, I was having dreams about you the day I met you. I left my windows opened at night for about 2 years, hoping you'd sneak in one night."

"Stiles!" Derek shook out of his funk, with a small laugh.

"What? Derek! I've had a crush on you forever. I understand why you didn't want to do anything with me then, but, still?"

Derek moved closer to the bed.

"Stiles. Just cause you may have wanted me while you were younger, and hornier..."

"Neither of which has changed." Stiles interjected.

"What if you said no, and I didn't respect that?" Derek's voice is almost a whisper.

"Never." Stiles shook his head, carefully.

"Derek. There is no way on Earth, or in the world of the supernatural, that you would hurt me, or disrespect me."

Stiles reached out, his hand on Derek's chest.

"But, Stiles. Your back. You could have been... I mean, why did I... if..."

Stiles shook his head.

"You would never hurt me." Stiles paused. "I mean, if I wanted you to hurt me while we had sex, I'm sure you'd do it in a responsible way..."

"Stiles. That's not funny." Derek huffed.

"It's not supposed to be. Maybe I like it rough Derek, and maybe I want it rough, now and again. And if I asked for something, would you tell me no?"

Derek smiled and shook his head.

"That's right." Stiles continued. Stiles took Derek's hands, and pulled him onto the bed.

Derek's body covered Stiles' now, and they pressed against each other.

Stiles gently tipped his head back, allowing the long, pale, unbroken line of his neck to be revealed to his Alpha.

Derek's nose dipped to Stiles' neck, salivating at the scents.

Arousal. Submission. Want. So much want.

"Stiles." Derek mumbled, with his lips against Stiles' pulse point.

"Yes, Derek?" Stiles voice was strained, not in pain, or fear, but desire.

"May I make love to you?" Derek's voice is soft, but there is such...

Stiles felt his heart beat and face flush. Derek was too damn proper at times.

But then Stiles realizes the tone in Derek's voice. Respect. Derek respects Stiles. Which is why he won't just go thrusting away, despite all of Stiles' green lights.

Derek respects him. Enough so that he won't do a thing unless Stiles is okay with it.

The thought catches Stiles so off guard that he doesn't even realize that he's teared up, until Derek looks at him concerned.

"Yes." Stiles chokes out, nodding as he bites his lips. It's Derek's turn to brush tears from crying eyes.

"Stiles. Are you ok? Did I hurt you, or...?"

Stiles hakes his head.

"No. Derek." Stiles inhales, his breath shuddering. "It's just..."

Stiles scent turns slightly nervous, a bright, yellow scent.

"I think I've had sex, maybe like a dozen times in my life." Stiles blushes. "But this is the only time I think anyone has ever wanted to make love to me."

Derek feels his gut twist a bit, thinking of Stiles with other lovers. The thought of people handling Stiles, maybe even mistreating him, infuriates him.

The beautiful man beneath him, with all of his loyalty, and his smarts. His attitude, his cleverness, his heart. That heart that loves so much.

That heart that could have, maybe even should have been his, years ago.

"I wish I could have been your first." Derek speaks, softly, tenderly. Still afraid to love, but learning how to say what he feels.

Stiles inspires an honesty in Derek that has been missing since Derek was a teenager.

"You can be." Stiles trails his fingers up Derek's arm. He marvels in the way the skin erupts in gooseflesh where his touch trails, and wishes he could smell Derek's arousal.

The thought of being turned, like Scott was, returns to his mind.

He maybe could consider it. For Derek, he would. He had before.

"You can be, Derek." Stiles repeats himself. "You can be the first guy who ever made love to me."

Stiles lets his fingers trail in Derek's hair. The wild strands are loose, and Stiles wonders if he's the only one of them who's ever seen Derek this way.

Disheveled, unkempt, raw, naked. Vulnerable in a way only a lover sees. He finds himself hating the others who would have hurt this amazing man.

How strange, Stiles thinks, they've had so many intimate moments together. Not always in a romantic, or even sexual way, just, intimate. Them. As a pair.

A couple.

Stiles always considered Scott his best friend, even when Scott never behaved in such a way. Derek, well, he considered Derek something else.

A soul mate? I mean, they hardly were friends, not until the Mexico affair, as it had become short-handed between the pack.

Dragging home a de-aged Derek Hale inspired a whole host of unusual feelings for Stiles.

They had always been intimate. Was the reason they fought so much was because they were fighting their own feelings for each other?

That was a discussion for another time. In post coital bliss perhaps. Not now.

Not when Derek has this goofy and romantic smile on his face, and he looks for all the world like a love-struck teenager.

Stiles feels his heart skip, and returns the smile, raising himself up enough to capture Derek's lips in a kiss.

Kissing Derek is better than Stiles could have ever dreamed of, and he's dreamed of it A LOT.

Derek's stubble is surprisingly soft, just firm enough to scrape gently against Stiles's chin, and cheeks, then down to his neck.

Stiles shudders thinking of all of the places that Derek's stubble with be scraping. He can hardly wait.

But he wants to wait. He wants to savor this between them.

Derek is going slow. Slower than he thought he would be capable of going. His lips brush and map out every part of Stiles' smooth skin.

He gently pecks a kiss on each of the moles that decorate Stiles' body, the way that he has always wanted to, since forever.

Derek feels an odd joy in the tight grip of Stiles' fingers in Derek's hair. It hurts in a way that pleases him, knowing that Stiles is overwhelmed with pleasure.

Pleasure that HE is causing. Derek feels very proud of that.

Stiles whimpers and moans softly, his eyes closed. He knows that if he takes even a peek that he'll blast all over himself, and he wants to wait for that.

Derek is on top of him, and Stiles cannot help the way his hands trace the wide, muscular expanse of Derek's back. Stiles runs his hands lower...

He pauses as he hears Derek gasp, tensing. Stiles stops, and remembers...

"Did I hurt you Derek?"

Derek shakes his head. "No. Just... when you touched me..."

Stiles grimaced. "Does it still sting?"

Derek closed his eyes, shyly. "It... actually... it kinda made it feel better."

Stiles watches Derek as he returns his hands to the older man's backside. Derek winces, then relaxes, his breathing steady as Stiles gently rubs the muscled globes.

Derek surprises Stiles, and lowers his head to kiss the younger man. Stiles responds in parting his lips, and letting Derek's tongue invade him.

They have waited forever for this, and they will wait no more.

 

[36 lust quenched, slightly dehydrated, and re-dressed hours later]

 

"Wait.... WHAT?!" Stiles was sitting at Scott's house, wearing some of his own clothes, but absolutely REEKING of Derek Hale, which Scott and Liam noted the minute Stiles walked into the house.

Not helping was Derek showing up casually minutes later, dressed as normal, but stinking of what Scott knew was Stiles'....

Well, Scott had grown up with Stiles, so he was intimately aware of what his bro's bodily fluids smelled like, even without werewolf heightened senses.

They all looked at each other, either in disbelief, or grinning like idiots.

"What do you mean...?" Stiles was floored by what Liam had just told him.

"Well," Scott giggled, "You must have just now since you didn't that night." He was amused at Stiles trying to hide what happened after Liam literally sniffed him out, before Derek got there.

When Derek DID arrive, almost five minutes after Stiles, he gave a low growl at the sight of Scott hanging off of Stiles, laughing, too close to his Stiles.

HIS.

Even though he knew Scott was their Alpha, that boy was his. He said his hellos, and plopped down on the couch, almost giddy when Stiles came to sit next to him.

Then came the story.

 

Stiles jaw dropped.

"We.... we did wha... What happened?"

Scott couldn't hold his smile back, and his voice choked with laughter.

"Derek got so drunk on the wolfsbane liquor, he forgot who he was, and someone mentioned that someone somewhere liked Stiles, and he was sooo upset!" 

Liam chimed in. "Stiles, for some reason, you stripped down to your shorts, and so you jumped on his back, in your underwear, and shouted 'Onward to fight fuckery!"

Derek hid his complete embarrassment behind a throw pillow.

"So Derek fully shifted and crashed through a window, you riding him like a cowboy. Liam and I shifted and went after you, chasing your drunk asses through the woods."

Stiles was trying to remember what the Hell had happened, but was drawing out a blank each time.

"Even without the super senses, I could tell where you were. You kept singing the chorus of "No Light, No Light" at the top of your lungs, while galloping into darkness."

Stiles flopped on the couch next to Derek.

Liam joined in and sat on Scott's lap. "When we found you and Derek, you were both in a thicket of wolfsbane, and you were spanking him with a switch."

Stiles eyes widened, and Derek removed his pillow long enough to shoot a death glare at Stiles, who hid bashfully behind his hand.

"You were both laughing, and Derek kept shouting, 'Thank you Sir, may I have another!'."

Derek returned the pillow to his face, as Stiles looked over with a grin.

Liam's eyes danced as he continued. "We would have left you there to work out the rest of your sexual tension, but Derek's backside was looking pained."

"And blistered, but he was so wasted I don't think he felt it." Scott nodded. "So I carried him back, and Liam grabbed you, kicking and screaming."

"Dare I ask what I was saying?" Stiles hid behind his hands.

Liam grinned. "You were saying to unhand your man, or we would wind up getting the ass kicking of a century." Stiles chuckled. 

Stiles gestured to his back. "Is THAT how I got all scraped up...?"

Liam nodded. "You fought the whole damn way. I eventually had to drag you over on your back the last bit, cause you kept walloping me on the side of the head."

Stiles looked chastened. "Sorry about that pup."

Liam shook his head. "It didn't hurt, really, just got annoying." He snuggled down harder into Scott, who placed a hand on the back of his pup's neck.

"Besides," Scott nuzzled into Liam's face. "It's not like you guys went wild and did anything too rash."

Stiles went rigid, and he could sense Derek do the same.

"Then we were too worn out to get you dressed, and we couldn't find your clothes anyway, so we just left you naked on the couch."

"What happened to my underwear?" Stiles asked.

"Better you don't know." Scott's nodded. "Trust me."


End file.
